


Black and White and Blurry

by impalawinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Dean is Loved, First Kiss, Fluff, Glasses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 22:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13533510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalawinchester/pseuds/impalawinchester
Summary: In which Sam and Dean discover that Cas can only see in shades of gray due to angel vessel dynamics, so they give him holy fire burned glasses and Cas realizes how much he’s been missing out on.





	Black and White and Blurry

“The red one,” Dean said when Cas asked which coffee to make. 

It was mid-morning, and Sam had already drank a pot on his own and had migrated to the library, where he was flipping through some fiction, for once.

Dean, on the other hand, was making breakfast for himself and his brother, because food tasted like molecules to Cas. Whatever the hell that meant. 

“Which one is that?” Cas asked, holding the two coffee containers up for examination, “the breakfast blend or the dark blend?” 

Dean flipped a pancake onto a plate. He leaned over and tapped the breakfast blend with the spatula. 

“The red one, like I said,” Dean answered and resumed his cooking. 

Cas began pouring the coffee into the filter and then the water after it. 

“Is your vessel color blind or something?” Dean asked. Sam snorted a laugh from the other room. 

“No. I see a multitude of spectrums of color and human wavelengths of light don’t transmit well. I only see in black and white on earth,” Cas said. He turned towards Dean. 

“And my vision is limited. I rarely make out details.” Dean poured more batter onto the hot pan. 

“Really? Not seeing colors? Damn,” Dean said and shook his head.

“I suppose it is a shame,” Cas agreed. They continued in silence until the coffee was brewed and the pancakes were made. Dean carried the food out to Sam with syrup and a fork while Cas followed with two mugs of coffee. 

“Cas, how many spectrums of color can you see in your celestial form?” Sam asked.

“Nerd,” Dean slipped in, but Sam ignored him. Besides, Dean was secretly curious, too.

“About a dozen.” 

“That’s incredible,” Sam said and leaned back to sip at his coffee.

“I do wonder what you see, sometimes,” Cas said a little wistfully. 

“Nothing special,” Dean said and stuffed pancake into his mouth. 

“Dean,” Sam scolded. 

“It’s true. Just bland colors and wrinkles,” Dean answered, pointing to his crow’s feet. Cas could hardly make out the lines in Dean’s face, or his eyelashes, or the freckles Sam had once mentioned he had scattered all over his face and shoulders. 

“I wonder if the glasses would work,” Sam said suddenly, when they had fallen to eating again. 

“Glasses?” Dean asked. 

“That we use for the hellhounds. It could work.” Cas narrowed his eyes in consideration, and Sam was already off, striding over to their hunting bag to retrieve the glasses.

He returned with them, handed them over to the angel, and held his breath. Dean was also anxious to see Cas’s reaction – also more than a little embarrassed by how concerned he was that Cas wouldn’t like what he saw. 

Cas slipped the glasses on slowly, seeming apprehensive: what if it didn’t work? What if it did? 

And when they were finally on and those big blue eyes of his were staring wide-eyed at the Winchesters, they all had their answer. 

“You look good with glasses, Cas,” Sam complimented with a smirk. He glanced to Dean, who swallowed nervously as Cas’s eyes first roamed the bunker’s limited shades, then Sam, and when he finally turned to the older brother? Dean’s heart was in his throat. 

“Dean,” Cas said, moving closer. Dean chuckled shakily and reminded Cas about personal space. But Cas wasn’t listening. 

“So that’s what freckles look like,” Cas said. 

“And crow’s feet, and wrinkles…” Dean added. May as well get it all out in the open. 

“You have a cut on your chin,” Cas commented. It was small nick just off center. 

“And you have green eyes,” Cas breathed. He was so close Dean could feel warmth radiating off him, his face so very close it would be too easy to surge forward and close the distance and kiss the damn angel – but Dean resisted.

“You have blue eyes,” Dean told him, desperate to take the attention away from himself. Neither noticed when Sam slipped down the hallway into his room. Cas smiled at Dean. He timidly reached up and touched Dean’s face. The worn, tired face which Dean no longer found attractive, which Dean couldn’t stand to look in the mirror at. 

“You’re very handsome, Dean,” Cas said. His voice was low and gentle. His thumb gently brushed against Dean’s cheek. 

“You should see Swayze,” Dean said. The attention was overwhelming, and though Dean hated to admit it, it made him insecure. 

“No, Dean. You are beautiful.” Dean snorted, tired to pull away, but Cas’s other hand caught him before he could. 

“If you could see what I see…” Cas started but trailed off, his eyes roaming over Dean’s face, over each freckle, each line, each pore – with total affection in his eyes. 

It was involuntary, the way Dean released the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding and rested his head more firmly in Cas’s hand. He let his eyes close. Let himself feel wanted. Attractive. 

“Beautiful,” Cas said again, interrupting Dean’s thoughts. 

When his eyes opened again, Cas was watching him carefully. Cas closed the distance between them in an instant, their lips gently brushing together in a chaste kiss.

It unnerved Dean – the way just that simple, light contact could send a shiver through him, warm him to his core. 

And when Cas kissed him again, with certain lips and a small smile and his hand curled around the back of Dean’s neck? He thought he’d died and went to heaven. His whole body trembled with the feeling, he was hyperaware of Cas’s closeness, of how tenderly he was kissing Dean – like he was some delicate flower. 

For once, Dean wanted to feel like a flower. He wanted to be taken care of, to be worshipped – to feel someone admiring him like that. And that fact that that person was Cas? Dean should’ve been dreaming. 

As they continued, shifting in their chairs to move closer together, Cas’s glasses got in the way of their making out. Dean broke apart long enough to remove them. Cas frowned. 

“Later,” Dean said, putting the glasses in his pocket, “you can take your time looking at me. But for now, no distractions.” He was surprised by his confidence. By his assuming that Cas would want to see the rest of him through the glasses. 

Yet Cas merely smiled and pulled him close again, kissing the Winchester with the green eyes and crow’s feet.


End file.
